Sauron and the Ringwraiths A Love Story
by Ringwraith Bob
Summary: The lives and loves of Sauron, the Witchking and other diabolical beings of Middle Earth
1. Chapter 1

**Sauron and the Ringwraiths (a love story)**

Chapter 1 

As dawn glimmered over the Shire, a cloaked and hooded figure fled south.  Spurring his mount onwards, he rode tirelessly, heeding the summons of his master.  Night and day he rode.  Soon, too soon, the Black Tower came into view, and he checked his pace.  This was not a meeting he looked forward to – he had failed in his mission and a confrontation was brewing.

He entered the fortress gates at a walk, his horse foaming with exertion.  Throwing the reins to a waiting sycophant, he dismounted from the trembling beast and gazed up at the Tower pinnacle.  His fate, one way or another would be sealed in the uppermost chamber.  It was best to be over quickly.  He pushed his way through the crowded forecourt to the main portcullis and strode along bustling corridors.  His mailed feet rang on stone.

As he climbed, the halls emptied until, seventy-six floors later, he stood alone before a pair of studded oak doors.  He paused, and then threw them wide.  The chamber beyond appeared almost empty, save an overwhelming presence of disembodied malice, which drew itself together to form a single large, red, Eye.

"I see you're empty-handed again, Bob."  The voice echoed around the hollow room.

The visitor threw back his hood to reveal… nothing.  He was a Wraith, given form in the daylight by the voluminous folds of black cloth around him.  "Not for want of trying," he replied.  "It's not exactly easy to catch a hobbit in this disguise…"

"Easier than a big, flaming Eye, I'll bet."

Bob smiled and ran an invisible hand through his unseen hair.  "Have you tried Visine?" he laughed.

"I mean, _you_, Bob, at least have presence, with the cloak and mail and all – how scary is an eyeball really?

I'm depressed, Bob.  I can't even catch a Hobbit!"

Bob cocked an eyebrow.  After an Age with Sauron, this was something new.  "Isn't Hobbit-catching _my_ job?" he asked mildly.

"My dear Witchking, I grow tired of an Age of plotting the downfall of my enemies.  I crave the adventure of the old days!"

"You had a body in the old days."

"That's what the Balrog says too," mourned the Eye.

"Balrog?"  Bob's voice sharpened.  "You told me you'd ended it with the Balrog."

"Oh, well, we still keep in touch occasionally," replied the Eye vaguely.

Bob looked doubtful.  "Don't lie to me, Sauron," he warned.

"Would I do that?"

"Yes."

Sauron laughed.  "Well, it's nice to see I have the trust and support of my staff behind me…!"

"Support?" scoffed Bob.  "I've had it with supporting you!  I have done everything for you and what do I get in return?  Orders.  'Do this', 'Kill that', 'Frighten the willies out of the other'!  I'm starting to think moving in with you was a bad idea!"  Bob began to pace the lengths of the chamber.

"You'd go back to the Spider?" the voice was malicious.

Bob paused and stared at the Eye.  "The Shelob incident was a mistake, and I'll thank you _not_ to mention it."

"Whatever for?" Sauron purred.  "Surely there's no harm in admitting one's mistakes?"

"What about that Wizard?" Bob shot back, resuming his pacing.

The Eye blinked.  "Yes, well, that didn't quite work to plan…" he mused.

The room fell silent, each lost in his own thoughts.  Bob was the first to break the silence.  "Where do you see us?" he queried.

"What?"

"You heard.  Is there any future for us?  You keep denying there's anything between is, that it's no more than a business relationship…"

"What do you want from me, Bob?" asked Sauron softly.

"Recognition," Bob fumed and stormed out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sauron and the Ringwraiths (A Love Story)**

Chapter 2

Many minutes, though they seemed like hours, passed, after the WitchKing had left.  The Eye remained motionless – not moving, even to gaze into the West, as it always did these days.

"Ah, me…", muttered Sauron.  "What do you want of me, Bob, dear chap?  Recognition?  You want it?  You shall _have_ it!"

Riding fast, hidden beneath his billowing clock, the Wraith dashed from the Dark Tower.  "Damn him!  All I've done for his Evilness… and what do I get?  'Kill that one.  Scare this one.  Bla bla bla!'!"  Thundering down the Dark Lord's gloomy gangplank, Bob turned on his steed one last time, to spit in the direction of Mordor.

"That's it.  I'm going back to Morgul!"

"Confound it all… He hasn't been gone 5 blasted minutes, and I'm already missing the bloody wraith", lamented Sauron, his eyelids momentarily twitching with suppressed emotion.  "Where's my damn palantir when I need it…", groaned the Eye, turning from the West, to survey his chamber.  "Aha… here you are, precious seeing stone…"

In his ghostly tower, Bob sat, meditating on the events of the day. 

"Well… what have you done today, Bob?", he asked himself, coldly.  "Left the Dark Tower… (who knows what that'll do to our alliance…).  Plus, all that furious horse-riding has done nothing for your poor thighs…".  

At that moment, all other thoughts were completely evicted from the WitchKing's mind – he was not startled, though, as this had become almost a daily occurrence.  (Besides – he wasn't altogether angry at having his painful previous thoughts removed)

"Bob…", came the voice in his head that he'd grown accustomed to.

"What IS it, Eye?  Can't you last a minute without me?  Blimey!  You've been hanging on me like a leech for Ages!"

"Bob…"

"WHAT?"

"Come home to me, Bob!  Jeez, I really am a sucker… you're gone an hour, and I'm already bored to tears!  Tears… that reminds me… you've taken the last bottle of Visine!  I NEED my Visine, Bob!"

"What… you want me to bring it back to your Tower?  Gift wrapped, perhaps, with a pretty pink bow on it???"

"Well… that's certainly an idea…"

"Sauron!  Get a grip."

"Sorry"

"Sorry just doesn't cut it anymore, Eye… I've been your right hand, literally, for thousands of lifeyears of Men.  And you _still_ take me for granted!"

"Sorry"

"Oh, stop the too-late apologies, Eye!  Where's my certificate?  Where's my 6-week-holiday you promised?  Where, Sauron?  Where?"

"Bob, if you want a vacation, just name the place…"

"It's not that, Eye.  It's the principle of the matter that counts.  Not _once_ in all my years of standing by your side have you  given me so much as a WORD of thanks!  Fighting those damn Elves for you.  Finding Rings (okay... that one didn't exactly go as planned…)  Marshaling your troops.  Supervising practically everything that happens between Mordor and Belfalas.  And what do I get?  _Nothing.  As usual!  Bob goes unappreciated!"_

"Bob, I can make it all up to you!  Just give me a chance!"

"Well… you can start by kindly refraining from interrupting my thoughts, without asking…"

"Sorry.  I forgot."

"And, you can stop bringing up my … my… um… Private Life… STOP your snickering, Eye!"

"Sorry"

"I'm not playing anymore, Eye.  Either you clean up your act, or you lose your best friend.  If you as much as _mention Shelob (those were good times, though…), or my affairs with various Maiar, we are **over!"**_

"Okay, okay… So.  What do we do now, Bob?  Won't you come back?  Give me another chance!  You might just be pleasantly surprised…"

"Say the magic word."

After much huffing, puffing, panting, and general uncomfortable noises from the Eye, a faint "Please?" is heard.

"Aha!  You asked nicely."

"No I didn't…"

"Yes, you did.  So, I'll be back.  And this time, Eye… try to show your best friend some genuine appreciation!"

Sitting alone again in his Tower, (Bob refused to talk anymore, until their next meeting), the Eye pondered the events of the day.  "What do I do to make him feel more appreciated?", mused the Eye.  "Buy him flowers?  No, no… his very touch will wither them.  (Delightfully evil chap, old Bob is!)  Candy?  No… A nice card?  No…. He never was a card type of a wraith."

Suddenly, an idea struck the Eye.  "Ouch!", he exclaimed.  "Damn ideas… don't they know they STING?"

The Evil One had it – he would buy his accomplice a disco ball.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sauron and the Ringwraiths (A Love Story)**

_Chapter 3_

Ringwraith Bob, Witchking, Chieftain of the Nine Terrors sat silent in his Morgul-hall.  His meetings with the Eye had not gone at all well, and he found himself irresistibly drawn back to Barûd-Dur.  Again.

He rose and went to the window, throwing it wide.  The foetid air from the Morgul Vale roused him from his mental stupor and he slammed the casement shut in a cold fury.  He hated his weakness where the Eye was concerned, hated the hold Sauron had over him.

Bob cast a cool glance about the chamber.  Everywhere there were reminders of the Dark Lord:  books they had enjoyed; albums they had listened to, and fought over; images of better times.  He picked up one heavy tome, reverently tracing the gilded lettering with his finger, reminiscing over the laughs they had had.  There was still a bookmark, a dog-eared page marking the last time they had read together.  The last truce before his journey North.

As he moved amongst the clutter of an Age, he found he was talking to himself.  "Sauron, Sauron, Sauron.  Why do you do this to me?  How can one being have so much power over another?  It seems so wrong.  The fighting, the evil things we say.  It's not healthy.  So why do I go back…?"

And so he went on.  And on.  For most of the night, actually.  Ringwraith Bob was a dreadful insomniac and who knows what he whispered to himself in the dark watches of the night, when the walls of his bower closed in around him?  

Unbeknownst to the Witchking, Sauron had turned his thought towards the Morgul Vale and was listening to his rantings.  The Eye heard Bob's grievances, slightly bemused at the pettiness of some of them, before tuning in to the more entertaining dreams of another Nazgul.

Towards dawn, Bob fell into an uneasy doze.

**

He was woken by the shrieking of the Nine (minus himself) around the breakfast-table, and staggered down to the kitchen.  Typically, all was in an uproar, and he winced at sounds far too loud and raucous for that time of the morning.

"Bob!" cried two of the younger Wraiths, Rick and Billy.

"Morning," he mumbled groggily, fumbling for the coffee machine.  A cup was pressed into his cold hands and he blinked at the contents.

"White with two, wasn't it?"  Ringwraith Joe was helpful to the point of irritation, and was invariably the most cheerful in the mornings.  Bob was not a morning person.  He nodded and sipped the steaming brew.

Leaning back against the counter, he looked at his friends.  None of them knew of his affair with their boss, and he wanted to keep it that way.

"I'll be going North again this morning," he announced.

"But you just got back!" chorused the Eight.

"You know what the Eye's like, always changing his plans.  Apparently I'm to harangue a selection of the so-called Free Peoples."  The lie came easy to him.  An Age of deception yielding fruit.

"How long will you be gone this time," bustled Joe.

Bob merely shrugged.

**

Ringwraith Bob saddled his horse once more, and led it from the stables.  It was a poor beast through hard riding, but it had once been a prize of the Rohirrim.  He mounted and spurred it into moving.  "Back to Barûd-Dur, Bjorn," he urged. "Back to Barûd-Dur."  Bjorn the horse snorted in reply.

The pair thundered across the Plain of Gorgoroth, showing to a canter as they passed through into Udûn.  "Udûn," thought Bob wryly.  "Hell.  How apt."  He raised an ironclad hand in response to the Orc-guard's greeting and continued on his way.

Sauron watched his mate's progress from the roof of the Dark Tower.  He smiled a secret smile at the thought of the box lying on Bob's bed.  Amazon.com had been remarkably swift in delivering the discoball.  He turned at a sound behind him, and saw Bob standing in the doorway.

"I was beginning to think you'd changed your mind," he commented.

"I'm not that fickle."

The Eye peered at the Wraith before him.  "You look tired, Bob.  Didn't you sleep?"

"I never do."

"I wish you'd try those herbal remedies I gave you."

Bob laughed.  "Herbal?  What sort of herbs would they be again, Eye?"  (Sauron ignored the implications in that remark).  "No thanks.  I don't trust to 'herbal' remedies…"

Abruptly changing the subject, the Dark Lord said, "Come Bob, I have something for you that should break this funk you've been in."

Bob's curiosity was piqued.  "Oh?  And what would that be?"

"You'll see," replied the Eye and led his Captain inside.

Bob shot a glance at Sauron when he saw the gift-wrapped box.  "Open it," commanded the Eye.  He did.

The discoball was roughly the size of a human head, cunningly crafted with tiny facets of mirrored silver.  As Bob turned it over in his hands, he gazed into its shiny surface in wonderment.

"Where did you…" he began, then stopped.  He felt his eyes moisten and was deeply touched by the gesture.

Sauron smiled.  This was precisely the reaction he was looking for.  As Bob raised his face to his, he held up a CD.

"Wanna dance?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Sauron and the Ringwraiths: A Love Story**

Chapter 4 

Beneath the slowly turning disco ball, two forces of Evil pivot slowly – for once, forgetting everything but love.

"Sauron, this means a lot to me"

"I'm glad, Bob.  It means even more to me"

"I'm glad I'm back, Eye.  I don't like to admit it…but… We're really so much better together.  Know what I mean?  We're almost like a puzzle. Better together than apart."

"I know exactly how you feel"

The Eye pulls Bob closer to him, and the two dance cheek-to-cheek.  Shivers of sparkling light, reflected on the turning disco ball, dance across their faces.

"You've made me feel bad though, Eye", whispered Bob, clutching the Dark Lord's rough but gentle hands.  "I didn't get you anything!"

"You did, though, Witchy.  You're better than any present you could have brought me"

The time is right, and both of them feel it.  The room turns slowly about them, as the dance to the slow, romantic pace of the music.  Leaning in, Sauron gently touches Bob's face, and the Wraith gazes tenderly into his Eye. 

"Kiss me, Sauron"

Needing no further urging, the Dark Lord's slightly visible lips brush Bob's, and the two exchange a tender, meaningful kiss.

"Thank you, Bob"

"Thank _you_, Eye"

"I've been thinking, though…."

"What about?"  The Dark Lord steals another kiss from his Ringwraith companion.

"I don't feel… all that comfortable about us being the same sex."

"Let this put you to ease, Bob – I'm a disembodied force of Evil.  That means I don't exactly _have_ a sex!"

"Hm… I suppose you're right, Eye"

The Wraith and Eye revel in their passion a while longer, before walking downstairs, hand-in-hand, for some refreshments.

Sitting around a black, shiny table, (presumably of Jasper), Bob clasps the Eye's hand, and comments:

"We won't ever be parted again… will we?"

"'Course not!  Bob… you awaken in me something that I've never, in my thousands of years of living, felt before!"

"Awww…"

"No, really, Bob.  You already _have_ a Ring… so I can't offer you one"

"True, true"

"What do you want, Bob?"

"I feel the same as you do about me, Eye.  I don't need anything but you!"

"Bob, to celebrate our love, I'm throwing a massive party!  All the Evil forces of Middle Earth will be invited."

The WitchKing suddenly shudders, and says, "even Saruman?"

"Well… "

"I don't want him to come – he'll be talking about how good I am in bed the whole time.  Sick bastard.  Can't seem to forget anything…"

"True, true.  And, come to think of it, I don't want the Balrog or Shelob there either.  They'll just keep talking about our sick night together…"

"Then who do we invite?"

"I dunno… you tell ME!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Sauron and the Ringwraiths (A Love Story)**

Chapter 5 

Sauron sat deep in thought, toying with the swizzle stick in his cocktail.  "Are there any Evil beings that neither of us has slept with?" he inquires.

"You want us to list them?" Bob snorts.

"No, no, Bob, not at all… although I was surprised to hear you'd been with Saruman too…"

Bob stabbed the olive in his martini.  "You too?  Maybe we _should_ start a list!"

"I don't think so…" The Dark Lord was evasive, giving Bob reason to suspect more than the Wizard caught his Eye.  Sauron was a Roving Eye, evidently.

Bob changed the subject back to the party.  "So.  Who to invite if we have this party?  Saruman's a big NO, as is Shelob and the Balrog…"

"And cross of Morgoth and Ungoliant," Sauron added.  "And let's leave the Watcher as well… fire and water don't mix," he mused.

Bob's eyes widened.  A little too much information there, he thought.

"Old Man Willow?  No, nor Bill Ferny…" Sauron went on.  "Easterlings and Haradrim?  Certainly not the Cave Troll.  It's a pity Smaug snuffed it…."

"OK.  Stop right there.  You're basically saying that between us we've gone through the entire forces of Evil in Middle Earth?"

"And Beleriand."

"Geez, Sauron!  There's no-one to invite for your little party!"

"What about the rest of the Wraiths?"

Bob looked disconcerted.  "No, I don't think we'll be doing that."

"Why not?  They're Evil.  Or are you telling me…?"

"Of course not!" Bob laughed.  "I certainly don't go for the tall, dark and Wraithy types!  Even if I did, workplace relationships don't exactly work out, do they?"

"What are you saying Bob?"

"Oh, we're different!"

Sauron shot a glance at his Witchking, but said nothing.

From above, the strains of ABBA drifted through the sound system:  _'Mamma Mia'_.  "Our song," smiled the Eye, singing a few bars.  "_And when you go/when you slam the door/I think you know/that you won't be away too long_…" he laughed.  "How very, very true, isn't it Bob?"

Bob gave a rueful laugh.  "Damn this hold you have over me.  _How can I resist you_?"  He too sang the last line.

Sauron came and stood before the Wraith.  Cupping Bob's face in his hands, he gazed deep into his liquid eyes.  "You can't," he said softly, then kissed him.  Bob put his arms around the Eye's waist and drew him closer.

"Oh, Eye…"


	6. Chapter 6

Sauron and the Ringwraiths:  A Love Story 

Chapter 6 

"Okay, okay", resumes the Dark Lord, after a prolonged period of silence.  "So

maybe a cocktail party wasn't exactly the best idea…"

"Yeah.  And that's putting it _mildly", says Bob.  _

"Well.  What do you suggest we do to pass the time, Witchy?  It's been weeks and 

weeks since I had any kind of social function at Barad-dur…"

"What about a pool-party?"

"No – I don't like water."

"A slumber party?"

"You know very well that neither of us sleep, Bob."

"How about a…"

"Forget about it, Bob", ends the Eye.  "It's hopeless!  We'll never get our active 

social lives back…"

"Oh, lighten up, Sauron!  We don't need any forces of evil to keep us happy.  All we

need is each other!"

"Thanks, Bob"

The Wraith gazes lovingly into the flame-wreathed Eye of his accomplice, and the 

Dark Lord's gaze pierces, (not harshly), his companion's pale but stunningly lively

Eyes.

"We could just go on holiday…"

After much deliberation, the Evil Pair decide to make Harad their destination, and are 

_Debating whether or not to bring sunblock._

"We aren't even _visible, Eye… we don't need sunscreen!"_

"Yes, but I read somewhere (the Mordor Press, I believe), that if we stay out in the

sun for extended periods of time, we might regain some of our former presence!  

If you see what I mean…"

"Really?  Well, Eye, I can't deny that I'd love to have my body back!  Perhaps I can finally take a shower, then, without forgetting where my body is!"

"I don't shower, Bob."

"And you still smell gorgeous!!"

"Thanks, Bob" 

"Okay.  Next topic – what clothes do we bring?"

"Well… I always liked that disco outfit of yours", says the Eye, playfully.  "It sparkles magnificently with your every movement."

"Good idea!  I'll bring that, if you bring your lime-green bellbottoms!"

"Will do.  Definitely will do."

"Oh! Oh, Eye!  Don't forget the sparkly mascara.  We wouldn't want to arrive in Harad looking any less than our best, now, would we?"

"Most certainly not, Witchy.  Will you help me find it?  Finding makeup items is a daunting task nowadays…" – sigh –

"Sauron, are your legs _still not working correctly?"_

"No, damn it.  And my Disembodied Eye-To-Body surgery didn't even come with a warranty!"

"Hm… Don't worry about it.  The Harad sun does wonders for muscles and joints, Eye."


	7. Chapter 7

**Sauron and the Ringwraiths (A love story)**

Chapter 7 

The ABBA CD spun to the end of its playlist, and as Sauron moved to change it to another '70's disco group, Bob called out to him.  "You never did go to Harad with us, did you?"

"No, the whole Elendil/Isildur/Free Peoples of the West dealie had me a little preoccupied…"

Bob laughed.

"And where were you and the rest of the Nine when I needed you?"  Sauron joked, strutting back into the room to the sound of _'Saturday Night Fever'_

"Living it up at the Harad Hilton if I recall aright…"

Sauron playfully cuffed his Witchking across the top of his head.  Smoothing his hair back down, Bob swivelled in his seat and looked up at the Eye.

"Sauron?"

"Mmm?"

"What are we going to tell the Eight?  They don't know about us…"

"Why not tell them?"

"I'd prefer it if we didn't.  You know what some of them are like…" Bob thought for a moment.  "And you know Joe will want to come with if we tell them where we're going."

The Dark Lord sat on the table before the Wraith and gazed thoughtfully at him.  "Why don't you like Joe?"

"No reason," replied Bob, pushing away Sauron's hands and getting to his feet.

"Where are you going?"

"If we're going to Harad, I have to pack remember!"

Sauron protested.  "But you've got some stuff here"

"Some stuff, yes.  But most is back at Minas Morgul."  Bob planted a swift kiss on the Eye's lips.  "Be back in the morning," He whispered before leaving, cloak billowing behind.

Alone in the gloom, Sauron bit his lip and watched him go.

---

Under cover of darkness, Ringwraith Bob returned to his Tower.  Bjorn's hooves clattered in the entranceway, rousing Ringwraith Joe from slumber.

"You're back soon," Joe commented, stifling a yawn.

"Not for long.  I'll be leaving before cock-crow."  Bob was curt.  There was something about Joe that irritated him, apart from his endless cheeriness.  In the torchlight, Joe's eyes glimmered almost knowingly.  Bob turned from him, disconcerted, and made his way up to his own chamber.

"Right… what to pack for a summer holiday?" he asked himself, then cursed at the turn of phrase as Cliff Richard's '_Summer Holiday_' got stuck in his head.  He threw his wardrobe wide and flicked through the garments.

"Clean cloak, yes… evening garb – of course… sequinned disco jumpsuits?  The Eye will kill me if I leave them behind… Speedos?  A necessity!" the pile of clothes being tossed on the bed grew, until he had enough for a decent holiday without wearing the same outfit twice.

Meanwhile, the Dark Lord Sauron was doing similar.  "This'll be good," he thought as he crammed another bottle of Visine into an over-stuffed pack.  "Maybe Bob'll loosen up a bit.  He's got a nasty jealous streak…"

---

Night passed.

Watching the dawn, Sauron caught a glimpse of as he Bob traversed the plains upon his trusty Bjorn.  "Horseback?" he thought.  "I am not riding a horse to Harad and back again."

Before too long, Bob reined in his frisky mount, and wheeled at the base of the tower.  "Sauron!" he called.


	8. Chapter 8

Sauron and the Ringwraiths: A Love Story 

Chapter 8 

"Come on down, Sauron!" yells Bob cheerily, "grab your coat and get your haaat!  Leave your troubles far behiiiind.  Just direct your feeeet to the sunny side of the…"

"Dear Morgoth, don't sing _this early in the morning, Bob!" laughs the Eye, hurrying downstairs.  "Stable your horse, while I'm coming… Darn this suitcase is heavy!"_

"Stable Bjorn?  Why?  I thought we were going horseback."

"Naw, Bob.  That's too mundane a mode of transport for us – we're on holiday!  We're supposed to be trying new and exciting things."

"Like what?"

"I hired an Oliphaunt."

"You're kidding, right, Eye?"

From not far off, a sound of crashing, and a thunderous trumpeting noise is heard.  Lead by five terrified-looking Uruks, a gigantic Oliphant comes lumbering towards the Evil Pair.

"Tell me again about how I was _kidding, Bob?" joked the Eye, beaming from ear to ear._

"How do we get onto its back?  Is it dangerous?  Is it tame?  Is it.."

"Now, now, Bob.  Don't ask me a string of questions in the morning!"

"You're beginning to sound like a certain hobbit, dear"

"Darn that Ringbearer…"

After much persuasion, Bob finally musters the courage to allow himself to be raised to the massive creature's bony back.  Taking a seat on one of black satin seats strapped to the Oliphaunt's back, the WitchKing secures his leather suitcase to the creature's headgear.

"I love what you've done with the colours, Eye", Bob points out.  "Red, gold, and black are three of my favourite colours!"

"Did you think the colour scheme was accidental, old chap?"

"Aww.. Eye, you shouldn't have."

Hoisting himself into the other black seat, the Eye motions to one of the Uruks on the ground, who quickly climbs aboard the Oliphaunt, and takes the reins.

"To Harad, James", orders Sauron.  "And make it snappy."

Slightly discomforted by the fact that there is a nosy Uruk coming along (even if only as a chauffeur), Bob leans over and whispers to the Eye…

"D'ya think he'll blab it all over Mordor that we're eloping, or something?"

"We're eloping, Bob?"

"No, no… but you know how these Uruks like to "spice up" the story."

"True.  Don't worry – if he tells, I'll do the same to him as I did to that Uruk that once walked in on us when we were disco dancing."

"Ah, yes!  I remember now, Sauron.  You had him beheaded on the spot!"

"Indeed I did", smirks the Eye.

"You're such a sweetie", grins Bob, slipping his arm through Sauron's armoured one.

After many hours atop the lumbering Oliphaunt's back, Bob begins to take the role of Official Annoyer.  (Somebody had to do it…) 

"Are we there yet?"

"No, Bob"

"How about now?"

"No, Bob"

This continues for about an hour – or until Sauron gets peeved, and gives the Wraith a long, passionate kiss to shut him up.  By nightfall, the bright lights of Harad's capital city can be seen, twinkling invitingly.

"_Now_ we're there, Witchy", points out the Eye, gently waking Bob, who has fallen asleep.

"Wha…  who?… Oh!  Finally… I wouldn't mind a nice hot shower and a cup of tea, right about now."

"And you shall have it!  James, take us to the Hilton, pronto!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Sauron and the Ringwraiths (A love story)**

Chapter 9 

As they approached the luxury hotel on the pristine Harad beach Ringwraith Bob turns to the Eye.

"How'd you manage to swing this?" he asked in awe.  "I've heard it can take _months_ to book a room here."

"Not just any room, my dear Bob," smiles the Dark Lord Sauron.  "The Diabolical Ruler Suite."

The Witchking goggled.

"Come, my most precious of Ringbearers, allow me to spoil you for once."

Bob whispered, "You do so much for me, Eye."

"Nonsense!  What is the point of being all-powerful and the most diabolical being on the face of Middle Earth if I cannot be nice to the most important person in my life every now and again?"

The Oliphaunt driver's ears pricked.  The Eye of Sauron leaned forward in his seat and whispered evilly: "You heard nothing."  The Uruk nodded dumbly and steered the beast toward the hotel's parking bay.

"You know, I much prefer horseback," commented Bob as he dismounted gingerly from the beast's broad back.

Sauron collected their luggage from the Oliphaunt's enormous trunk.  "An Oliphaunt has _presence_, Witchy, and it's much less chafing on the thighs…"

The Bob laughed and rolled his eyes.  He linked arms with the Eye and the couple strolled through the opulent lobby.  Beings from all over Middle Earth seemed to be staying in the elegant hotel: Orcs, Elves, Men (and Women), Hobbitses (and their related brethren of the waterways)… Birds soared through the vaulted ceilings and perched on unlikely inanimate objects.  

As Sauron filled in the check-in card, a small sparrow-like bird sat upon his pen.  A rather large avian creature tried to make off with the suitcases, but, upon failing, contented itself with pulling out strands of Bob's hair.

"Right, let's go!" called the Eye cheerily.

Bob hefted the suitcases (still sporting the blue-plumed bird in his hair) and followed his partner.  He marvelled at the setting, eyes widening at the splendour of the corridors alone, and his brief glimpses into rooms served to mystify him further.

"Eye, you can't afford this," he hissed as they traversed the long halls.

"Of course I can!  You don't think I used the fires of Orodruin to forge just one measly Ring, do you?"

"Wha…?"

Sauron raised a hand, silencing the Witchking.  He drew from a fold of his cloak a small card.  "My dear friend, Mount Doom is one of the safest banks in Middle Earth, with my own personal Mint.  This card, the (evil)Visa, allows me to access my hoard of wealth without carrying sacks of gold.  You know how a pocketful of gold can destroy the line of your outfit…"

He passed the card to Bob, who turned it over in his hands.  "Now you tell me, Eye," he laughs.  "I could have saved so much space packing!"

"I have one for you, too," The Eye remarked.  Without pausing for Bob's reaction, he said:  "Ah, here we are – the Diabolical Ruler Suite."  He threw the doors of the suite wide.  "Make yourself at home, Bob."

Bob dropped the cases in the doorway and stared into the room.  Before his was a sumptuous living area, complete with leather couches, deep-pile carpet and French doors opening directly onto their private beach.  All the mod-cons, which put his Morgul tower to shame.

"Bob, come here!" called the Eye from a distant room.

Negotiating the suite carefully, Bob soon found himself in a massive bedroom.  Sprawled across the Iluvatar-sized bed was the Eye.

"Sheer luxury, innit Witchy?" he sighed contentedly.

At this point in time, the bird decided to leave Bob's head and perch above the doorway.  "Git out of it!" cried Bob, throwing a pillow at it.

"Nevermore," smirked the bird.


End file.
